Fire

By Aiki Flinthart

the price of freedom must be paid, but not in coin.
With the immediate threat of war on Kalima averted, Alere, Kett, and Corin must track down Alere’s sister, Mina. But Alere struggles to understand her new-found powers, only certain that Mina is in danger. When slavers decimate Mina’s ship, the situation turns lethal. Jarran, the new Jun First of Mamlakah, has been captured along with Mina, and Rohne Connor.
Now Alere and her companions must recover the Jun First and Mina from Hallon Nasim, the most brutal Slavemaster of Melcor, – before Jarran loses his new throne to rebellion. And Rohne has his own, unknown agenda.
In the attempt to free her sister and friends, Alere will risk more than just her own life and theirs. She’ll gamble with the sovereignty of her Jundom, and the lives of the people of Mamlakah, itself.
If she fails, it means death or slavery for everyone she loves and destruction for Xintou House.
But succeeding could be even worse.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Aiki Flinthart
• Release date: Mar 3, 2019
• ISBN: 9780648287872

Aiki Flinthart

Aiki lives in Brisbane, Australia, with her husband, (Ernest), teenage son (Leonidis - not their real names, obviously), aging dog and directionally-challenged fish.In between being a wife, running a business full-time and helping Leonidis with homework, she squeezes in a few hobbies, including:Martial arts, painting, writing, reading, bellydancing and playing three or four musical instruments. Occasionally she even sleeps. Very occasionally.

Book preview

CHAPTER ONE

ALERE

Freedom was a state of mind, as much as a state of being.

Alere leaned on the Kuailong’s gunwale and raised her face to the star-spattered sky, welcoming the night’s ice-sharp emptiness; revelling in a moment of respite after the last week of war and destruction.

The calm solitude wouldn’t last. The liberty she had hoped for when she left Madina had been a rebellious child’s dream. She was bound, now, by the iron chains of privilege to an inescapable path. She smiled wryly and straightened. Only a shazi would complain about choosing to live a life of luxury as Jun-Heir to the second-most powerful man in Mamlakah.

Alere glanced south, towards Shanzhai city, but there was little to be seen. The deep river gorge, which sheltered the anchored chuan, lay shadowed and silent, hoary with frost.

Overhead, Luna-Yi’s red crescent washed watered-blood light over pale pockets of snow that clung to rocks and branches. Bare twigs of winter-stripped trees scratched at the sky’s black-sapphire expanse. Night-shadows slipped across the deck, dancing to the wind’s whistling and the chuan’s gentle creaking.

This… Alere sucked a deep breath. The clean scent of snow and ice cleared her nose and honed her wits. Her eyes watered in the thin air. She sighed and her breath billowed, cloaking the world in the fog of her resignation.

The adventure, the freedom…this she would miss.

But the iron ties that chained her to Shanzhai were her choice.

Most of them. Alere stared down at the Kabir River’s black-silk waters and ran her thumb over the faintly-glimmering yanstone embedded in her steel dagger’s pommel. As always, the silver-gilt lure of her twin sister’s mind pulled at her. Mina had left Shanzhai because of Alere’s choices.

She shook her head and pushed uncertainty aside. She had done the right thing. The important thing. Her conscience should be clear. When this was all over, she would find a way to live her own life. Come to terms with the deaths she’d caused.

No, the murders.

But, for now, it was more important to focus on catching up with Mina – and Rohne Marin-Kin.

Regret was the killer of confidence and imagining what-might-have-been was time wasted.

The danger to Mina was real; here and now.

She smoothed her thumb over the yanstones again. Warm reassurance oozed into her body, easing tension – her constant companion since Mina had left Shanzhai city four days before. There was nothing she could do to find her twin right now. In the east, the weak orange winter-sun was merely a glow behind the Aswad Ranges’ sharp teeth. Perhaps, as the old saying went, morning would bring light into darkness.

Dawn wasn’t far off and they would get underway soon. The chuanzhu, Dalor Khan, had ordered the Kuailong tied for the night, close to shore, in a quiet section of the Kabir River. Even by day, the tumbling white-jade waters were winter-shallow and treacherous with exposed rocks. Night travel was impossible, which meant frustrating delays in catching up with the chuan carrying Mina and Rohne.

If Mina was caught and recognised before the new rulings legalising kin-children were made public, she would be executed. Or held hostage as proof that Alere was not who she pretended to be. That her Jun Second father, Rafi Koh-Lin, had lied to the twenty other Juns who ruled Mamlakah. And that could plunge Mamlakah into the very war Alere had fought so hard to prevent.

So why had Rohne taken Mina away from Shanzhai? He must have understood the danger. What made him decide to leave on the eve of the battle against Hanna Zah-Hill?

There were too many unanswered questions.

They kept Alere awake at night. Those and the nightmares. Even the rhythmic sloshing of water against the chuan’s magnal alloy hull wasn’t enough to dampen the dreams of fire and death.

Had she freed the whole Jundom of Mamlakah only to imprison herself in regrets? And a life of servitude as Jun-Heir to her Jun Second father, Rafi? Was that the result Mistress Li of Xintou House had intended when she advised choosing the important over personal desires? She had set Alere’s feet on the path to prevent war. But had she truly wanted Alere to kill Ven Zah-Hill – Jun First of Mamlakah – and his Bonded Xintou-telepath?

With a growl, Alere sheathed the yanstone-and-steel dagger. Who knew what Mistress Li thought or intended? She had been leader of Xintou House and the power behind the Jun First throne forever, espousing stability at all costs.

At any cost, apparently.

Only time would dull the memory of Jun First Ven Zah-Hill’s death at Alere’s hand; by her blade. Until then, she’d have to bear with the nightmares – like those that had driven her from her warm bed tonight.

Cold prickled across her skin. She was a shazi for leaving her cloak and boots in her cabin. She shoved unruly dark hair back from her face and rubbed briskly at her arms.

She touched the yanstones again. Warmth slipped under skin, through muscles, and she relaxed. But a familiar compulsion to find Mina surged immediately after, stronger than before, leaving the taste of iron and smoke on her tongue. Alere paced the small upper deck. She tried to reach Mina’s thoughts, but her twin sister was too far away, and too deeply asleep.

A buzz of insect wings made her duck and cover her ears. Nightwings. Three, each with a wingspan as wide as her arms, circling the chuan in an intricate tri-gender mating dance. It wasn’t yet egg-laying season, but they were still capable of delivering a nasty sting. They buzzed past again, only visible by the faint silver luminescence streaking their undersides. She watched warily, dagger drawn.

They darted downstream, chasing each other in a dizzying display of aerobatics.

Past another chuan.

Alere straightened, squinting in the half-light, trying to make out any identifying marks. What was another chuan doing on this part of the river? It lay, dark and silent, only a hundred or so paces downriver. Was it a wreck? Should she rouse the crew to give aid?

Rafi had spent two days and a staggering number of iron coins convincing Chuanzhu Dalor Khan to risk his new vessel, the Kuailong, on the Kabir in winter. With the low water levels, floating ice and winter storms, Dalor’s shallow-drafted chuan with its tough, light magnal hull was the only one left in Shanzhai that could make the trip to Madina.

Could the vessel ahead be Rohne and Mina’s? No. They’d left four days before on a chuan marked with Shanzhai’s green dragon. The same one that carried Jarran Zah-Hill, the new Jun First, to Madina. This one seemed to have a salamander emblem. The symbol for the Jundom of Melcor, to the north. The name was difficult to make out in the gloom. The Nasir. A type of scavenger bird. What was a Melcori vessel doing so far upriver? A few portaged overland from Madina to Shanzhai each year and sailed back to Melcor with trade goods, but Dalor said they’d all left two weeks before.

Alere frowned. Where was Dalor’s watchman? He should have sounded the alert with a vessel that close. Perhaps he hadn’t seen it in the dark. She checked the lower deck and swore softly.

A body lay crumpled on the pale bamboo surface. Eight figures prowled the lower deck. They moved with smooth stealth and carried long, sinuous daggers that gleamed in the half-light. Headed for the door leading to the sleeping quarters. Too many to take on by herself. Her fingers and bare toes were numb with cold. Her limbs stiff. And she had stupidly left her alzin armour stored under the bunk in her cabin, along with her bow and throwing knives.

‘Jiche!’ Alere crouched out of sight. She laid her hands on the yanstones in her weapons. The stones’ silver-gilt warmth engulfed her mind. The taste of iron and smoke filled her mouth. She stretched her thoughts out, seeking her companions belowdecks.

Kett slept. Trained in Weishi House and in Xintou House, her former weishi-bodyguard’s mind was too well-warded to breach. Rafi, and Corin Johnston, were the same. Hardly surprising as her father and her father’s spymaster had also been trained by xintou-telepaths to ward their thoughts.

Only Gavon Abdul-kin, yongbing-mercenary, was unwarded.

She swore again. He would hate the intrusion but there was no helping it.

Gavon! Wake up. We’re boarded.

He snapped awake like the experienced warrior he was. She repeated the warning. Without wasting time on questions, he roused the others.

Corin was then simple to find: an intensity of energy, intelligence, and life-joy. He was still drowsy, his waking-wards not yet complete.

Cor?

His Outer wards slammed into place, shielding his mind and sending her reeling. She blinked and tried again. He relaxed and let her in.

Alere? Gaisi! You scared me, woman. Voices in your head is a sign of insanity.

Then keep your wards up. She was acerbic, shaken by the force of his rejection. I’m on the upper deck. There’s a chuan downstream. Melcori markings. There are eight men on the lower deck. Not sure how many more. Take Gavon through the access hatch in the cabin, down to crewquarters. Wake them. Send Kett and Rafi to Dalor’s cabin. They can climb out through his windows and stand with me. Tell Kett to bring my bow.

Done. His reply was unhesitating. Stay hidden until we get there.

She basked in the mental equivalent of a blown kiss as they parted.

There was nowhere to hide, though. Any moment the dawnlight would be bright enough to reveal her position. She was better off taking a stand at the top of the stairs. Hopefully they didn’t have bows.

Holding the sword sheath so it wouldn’t clatter against the deck, she half-crawled alongside the gunwale and put her back against the solid railing close to the stairs.

The first head appeared. She waited until his foot was on the deck.

She rose, drew her steel and drove it to the hilt through his alzin vest. A scream burst from his lips. She swore and thrust him ungracefully backward, into his companions. His shout echoed off the river gorge’s high, black-rock walls and spawned copies from the mouths of the other boarders.

Trapdoors flew open on the lower deck. Corin, Gavon, and Dalor’s crew spilled from every possible opening at once. The clash of steel, ceramic, and bronze ricocheted. A clamour of voices rose, filling the narrow valley with unintelligible sound. An arrow arced over from the Melcori chuan. It scythed through the brightening sky to land less than a pace from Corin’s feet, where he fought on the lower deck.

Another landed in the timber at Alere’s feet. More. Each one closer as the archers found their range. A shaft brushed her shoulder. They were good. She skipped backward and four men swarmed up the stairs. They advanced on her in a semi-circle.

Jiche! Where was Kett?

A ceramic blade swept in from her left. She stepped back. The tip skimmed her throat. She moved in and sliced low. Her edge bit through a leather leg guard, into flesh. Not deeply, but enough to make the man pause. She wrenched the blade free and struck aside his half-raised sword. Her dagger sliced backhand across his exposed throat.

‘Take ‘em alive!’ A huge body slammed into her. And a second. She staggered, driven back against the railing. Her attacker’s rank breath gusted from a mouth full of blackened, broken teeth. Alere smashed the sword-pommel against his jaw. He shook his head and struck the inside of her wrist, numbing her hand. The sword clattered to the deck. She drove a knee into his groin. He grunted and fell back a step. The other boarder grabbed her dagger-hand. She twisted free and plunged the blade into his neck. Blood spurted, making the hilt slippery.

The first recovered and slammed her dagger-hand into the railing, jarring the blade loose. The fourth man leapt in.

Alere kicked at his knee and it crunched beneath her heel. He screamed and collapsed. Only one held her now. The biggest. Twice her weight, and all muscle. His thick hand still held her wrist. She jabbed with stiffened fingers at his throat. He blocked and his fist struck her temple. Light burst behind her eyes, blinding. Darkness roared. Pressed against the railing, she couldn’t make space to recover. Huge hands shoved at her chest. She toppled backwards, scrabbling at the gunwale as she went over.

‘Alli!’

Something latched onto her wrist and she jerked to a halt, wrenching her shoulder. A large body flew past and splashed into the water. Her heels hit the side of the chuan, jarring pain through her legs. She squinted up. Kett half-lay over the gunwale, one hand wrapped around her wrist, the other gripping the railing.

Icy water splashed Alere’s feet and she glanced down. The river’s cold, black depth swirled and rippled just a bodylength below. Her heart thudded blood in her ears.

‘Alli, I can’t…pull you up.’ Kett bared his teeth in a grimace. His arms and shoulders shook.

Alere looked up at him, then back down at the river; at its seductive, dark draw. The water held a kind of peace in the midst of the chaos.

‘Alli?’ Kett’s call held urgency, fear. The chuan rocked as a surge of water eddied against it. Kett’s grip on her arm slipped and he swore. ‘Alli!’ His grey eyes caught hers. ‘I can’t…you have to help. You have to climb. If you don’t, you’ll die. The river’s too cold and deep here. And there are shaytan-salamanders.’

She glanced once more at the blackness below.

Something, deep in her mind, urged her to let go.

‘Alli…please?’

CHAPTER TWO

ALERE

Alere frowned and shook her head. Letting go? Where had that thought come from?

She gripped Kett’s wrist and he gave a breathless half-laugh.

‘Hold on,’ he said. ‘I’m going to swing you. Grab the rail.’

She pushed along the slippery magnal metal hull with her bare feet. Kett grunted, his neck and arms cording as he swung her. She stretched out. Her fingertips caught the top of the rail and she clung to the smooth timber. Kett edged along, lifting her a fraction higher. Alere shifted her grip and got better purchase. Together, they dragged her up the side of the chuan and back onto the deck.

Alere collapsed, trembling, her shoulder aching and fingers bloodless.

Kett knelt beside her, panting. ‘You alright?’

She rotated her shoulder and winced. ‘I think so. Thanks.’

‘You scared me. Don’t do that again.’

‘I—’

‘Here.’ He thrust her bow and quiver into her hands. ‘Get onto the storage locker by the midship rail and use that.’ He gripped his sword. ‘I’ll guard your back.’

Grateful for his steady, enduring presence, she touched his arm. ‘You always do. Thank you.’

Kett stared impassively at her for a moment, then nodded.

Heavy steps thudded across the deck. A Melcori-crewman ran towards them, a bronze blade in each hand, his long, dark hair flying.

Kett rose and drew his steel sword. ‘Leave this to me. Your father needs help. Go.’ He nodded towards the other side of the deck. Rafi Koh-Lin was beset by four men who fought like wild xiao-cats: without a great deal of style, but with unmatched ferocity.

Alere scrabbled across the deck and grabbed her lost sword and dagger, resheathing them as she ran. A quick leap landed her on the flat storage locker roof. The chuan pitched and she steadied herself. She nocked an arrow to her horsebow. Thumb-ring and arrow both in place, she scanned the deck. A few slow breaths helped control the the rush of adrenalin that soaked her blood and shook her hands.

One man lay bleeding at Rafi’s feet. Alere flexed her injured shoulder and sighted. The three remaining boarders weren’t trying to kill her father, just corner him. Though more skilled, Rafi was older and a little slower. In a moment he would be trapped against the railing. Alere loosed an arrow, redrew and loosed the next. Then the third. All three men fell. One arrow through a neck, one through the meat of his belly, one through the chest. Rafi finished the second and saluted her.

A whistling sound made her turn. From the other chuan, tiny glowing balls of flame arced through the air, leaving green trails on her retinas when she blinked. Flaming arrows? Three archers stood at the rail. They were prepared to burn Dalor’s vessel to the waterline? What happened to taking her alive?

An arrow thunked into the timber two paces away, its cloth-wrapped shaft still alight. She yanked it free, nocked the flaming shaft and raised her sights to the other chuan. With her knees soft against the motion of the vessel, she relaxed. There was a slight breeze at her back. She allowed for it and released.

The arrow flew true, landing at the base of the red sail furled to the Melcori vessel’s single mast. The sailors spotted the flame licking at their canvas and cries of alarm rose with the smoke. The crew dashed for buckets. That distracted the enemy archers, giving her time to line them up.

Her first arrow rose high, with perfect line and distance. But her target saw it coming and leapt aside. Alere followed immediately with a second shaft, aimed at where he would be. That one hit. The archer dropped his bow into the foaming water and clutched the slender timber skewer protruding from his chest. He toppled overboard.

‘Alli! On your left.’ Kett’s warning caught her mid-draw. She spun and released. The man attempting to climb onto the storage locker behind her screamed. He fell backward with an arrow through his eye.

Another flaming arrow landed on the deck below. Corin paused long enough to yank it free and toss it overboard before the fire could take hold. He caught her gaze and smiled broadly. Three upraised fingers and a wave at the dead strewn across the deck must indicate his count. She held up six fingers. He threw back his head, his laugh carrying in the cold air.

There were no more boarders standing. The Melcori crew lay decimated. Alere turned her attention back to the Nasir. The Melcori crew slashed the line mooring their vessel to shore. They’d put out the fire and now unfurled the sail. A long, charred hole divided the sail almost in two. But it held together, billowing out in the sharp breeze.

Alere nocked another arrow and studied the men visible on the Nasir’s deck. There. Standing by the wheel. One man shouted orders that the remaining crew scurried to obey. Their chuanzhu.

The screams of the wounded and dying, and the smell of blood wafted from the carnage on Dalor’s chuan. Alere blotted them out. She stretched her neck and shoulder. The Nasir slid into the Kabir’s fast-flowing current. Alere set her feet, drawing the string and a deep breath.

The chuan slipped further away. The Nasir’s chuanzhu glanced over his shoulder. He caught her eye and extended his fist, little finger pointing down, in a rude hand signal. He turned his back. Alere relaxed the bowstring.

‘Take the shot,’ Ket called from across the deck, watching the Nasir.

‘It’s too far!’

‘Only if you think it is,’ he said. ‘Don’t let him intimidate you. Take the shot.’

Quashing a tremor of self-doubt, she drew again and leaned back to raise the tip of the arrow. Tightening the muscles between her shoulderblades lengthened the draw. She released. The arrow flew along with the breath from her lips. She held her position until the shaft was well clear and soaring serenely through the brightening peridot sky.

On the Kuailong, movement ceased as all eyes followed the arrow’s perfect arc. Silence held sway: a frozen moment stolen from madness.

The chuanzhu on the Nasir continued to shout orders to his frantic crew.

The broadhead buried itself into the back of his skull.

He fell forward, dead before he even hit the deck.

The moment broke. A ragged cheer arose from Dalor’s men. The Melcori chuan wove and pitched into the main current, its hands confused and chaotic. A crewman with unusual, bright red hair leapt to the wheel and took control of the Nasir.

After a speculative look at Alere, Dalor shouted his crew down and set them to work dousing pockets of fire and cleaning the decks. Corin bounded up the ladder from the lower deck, his blond hair flying in the rising breeze, escaping its mawei tie, as it always did. Gavon, stocky and dark-bearded, with his hair so short as to be almost shaven, followed more slowly. Blood glistened on his ceramic blade. He gave her a grave nod of acknowledgement. His expertise had refined her ability to hit distant, moving targets and she was grateful for it, now. She slung the bow across her back.

The winter breeze cut through her thin, bamboo-cloth shirt. Shivering, she wrapped her arms around herself as the fire of adrenalin ebbed. A dull mind and stiff muscles replaced it.

Corin paused below her position, squinting against the rising sun. He swept her a deep, flourishing bow, more suited to the grand ballroom in her father’s Shanzhai castle than the shifting deck of this small chuan. He brought his hands together in slow applause. It was often hard to tell if he was being serious or ironic.

‘Wasai.’ He shook his head. ‘That was the most impressive feat of marksmanship I’ve seen…well, ever.’

The genuine warmth in his green eyes said he was serious. And his smile held more than simple admiration. Alere flushed. Corin’s hands slid around her waist and he lifted her off the storage locker. Not that she needed help. Her heart fluttered. He lowered her slowly, holding her gaze. His mouth curved in a sensual smile for her alone and the rest of the world faded for a moment.

‘I’m glad you’re alright,’ he murmured. ‘Have I told you recently how incredible you are?’ He hesitated, leaned down, and brushed his lips across hers.

‘You do remember that I trained in Jiaoji House for three years, don’t you?’ she said.

He paused, quirking a grin. ‘And?’

‘And I know what you’re doing.’ Her heart thudded. She might have learned every method of seduction, but that didn’t make her immune to its lure. Especially from Corin.

He chuckled. ‘Good. I’d be more worried if you didn’t know.’

Laughter bubbled up and she pushed free of his tempting warmth. She eyed the curious crew meaningfully. ‘Well, you have terrible timing. Again.’

‘True. It’s a conspiracy against us.’ He sighed, kissed her forehead, and released her.

Kett approached, cleaning his blade and sliding the steel carefully into its sheath. With his dark hair neatly tied and any bloodstains invisible on his black weishi’s tunic and trous, he looked more like he’d wandered onto the deck for a stroll than had just killed men in hand-to-hand combat.

‘Well shot, Alli.’ He passed her the oiled cloth and she cleaned her blades.

‘A lot of luck.’ She lifted one shoulder.

He smiled faintly, grey eyes alight. ‘Only if you count ten years of training as luck. Perhaps,’ he added as she opened her mouth to protest, ‘we’ll call it a lot of skill and a reasonable amount of luck.’

Rafi strode over, his clear blue gaze on the Melcori ship as it vanished around a bend. He sheathed his weapon. Absently, he flexed his fingers and shook his wrist. ‘I’m out of practice. Good thing they weren’t trying to kill me.’

Of a height with Kett and fractionally taller than Corin, Rafi Koh-Lin dominated the company. His plain brown bamboo-cloth shirt and grey trous gave no indication he was Jun Second and arguably the most powerful man in Mamlakah. But his intense charisma and confidence was almost overwhelming. Alere kept silent.

He grimaced. ‘It’s a pity they’ve escaped and we’ve none left alive to question. This act is unusual for the Melcori and I’d like to know what prompted it. However, they’re not our mission. I’ve ordered Dalor to let them go. We must focus on catching up with Jarran.’

Alere hunched a shoulder, trying to hold onto the moment of buoyancy, the thrill of success. What did she have to do to impress him? She frowned. Why was she trying to impress him, anyway? She’d known her father for a week. For twenty years she’d managed without his approval.

Rafi’s eyes were still on the river north. ‘Jarran’s chuan left four days ago. By river it’s less than a week to Madina. I should have received two flitters from my men with progress reports. I’ve received one this morning from my wife, Yasmin, in Shanzhai. She’s heard nothing from Jarran or my weishi on his chuan.’

‘And you’re worried Rohne Marin-kin may have something to do with it,’ Kett added, ‘since he left on the same vessel, and took Mina with him.’

Rafi nodded, shading his face with a hand as the sun finally cleared the mountains and poured its light and feeble warmth into the valley. ‘Jarran Zah-Hill, as new Jun First, is the best hope Mamlakah has of coming through the economic crisis Hanna Zah-Hill and her son, Ven, brought on us. He runs a successful chain of businesses.’ He smiled wryly. ‘And that’s not unlike running a successful Jundom. But it’s my duty as Jun Second to make sure he’s safe and to help him settle in. I thought I was doing the right thing by sending him to Madina without me. So he could begin his reign visibly independent, but...’

‘But what?’ Alere asked.

He scanned their path downriver. ‘If Rohne has betrayed us somehow, then he has both the new Jun First and my kin-daughter as hostage. And, even if Rohne has done nothing, his existence as a male xintou puts all of them in danger. And Jarran also has his young daughters with him.’

‘I know we’re all conditioned by Xintou House to fear male telepaths,’ Alere said, ‘but Rohne’s done nothing wrong that I know of.’

Rafi’s lips tightened. ‘True, but the political situation is too volatile to risk Jarran’s safety at the moment. Jarran’s seat on the throne depends on his being accepted by the other twenty ruling Juns. If they think he’s under the control of a male xintou – or even associated with one…’ He shook his head. ‘The jundom could easily descend into a bloodbath if the other Juns start fighting for the Jun First position. The lands controlled by the Zah-Hill Jun First family are the richest in Mamlakah.’

‘Shenshi?’ Corin’s urgent hail brought them to his side.

He knelt by one of the fallen raiders and his expression lacked its usual glint of humour. Lifting the man’s bare foot, Corin angled it towards Rafi, who ran a hand over his short, greying hair and gave a heavy sigh. Beside him, Gavon made a noise suspiciously like a growl. Something akin to black hatred flared in his dark eyes.

Alere inspected the bared skin. An old burn-scar puckered the sole. So, the dead man had been a Melcori slave at some point. Gavon pulled out his dagger and sliced at the sleeve covering the body’s left arm. He revealed a tattooed N on the flaccid bicep.

‘Mhareb-slave.’ Gavon dropped the sleeve and brushed his fingers off fastidiously.

The words translated to ‘warrior-slave’, which meant nothing to Alere beyond the literal. She was reluctant to ask Gavon to explain, for he had once been a slave, himself. Kett showed nothing of his thoughts, only cool understanding and faint curiosity, not alarm. Corin, in his role as spy for Rafi, was a master of hiding his feelings behind a flippant front. So, it was a surprise to see the faintest flicker of revulsion as he inspected the branded skin.

Rafi’s mouth twisted. ‘A slaver-ship. Dalor suspected as much when we woke him. They grow bolder each year.’ He waved the chuanzhu over.

Dalor studied the body and folded sinewy arms across his chest. His bronze dagger, small in fingers gnarled and thickened by years on the ropes, glinted in the dawn’s pink light. He tapped one bare foot restlessly on the bamboo boards. His thick, black hair was braided into a waist-length mawei, held back from a face crevassed by time and exposure.

‘Gouri slavers on the Kuailong, Shenshi Rafi.’ His sneering tone made the Jun Second’s title into an insult. ‘They shouldn’t be here. I have an arrangement with Jahil, the Shah of Melcor. My vessels are off limits and his Slavemasters are meant to stay north of Madina. He’ll hear from me when I’m next in Chengdu.’ He glared downriver then back at Rafi. ‘They were after you. I saw that much.’ He pointed the dagger-tip at Rafi, sharp black eyes fixed in a scowl. ‘They come back and I’m holding you responsible, shenshi. You threatened my livelihood if I didn’t agree to this trip.’

Rafi gazed coolly down his nose. Dalor stared right back, as though he would happily slit his Jun Second’s throat and throw him overboard.

‘Understood, chuanzhu.’ Rafi lifted his chin. Every inch the Jun, he towered a good head over Dalor. ‘Now, get us underway.’

Dalor turned on his heel and stalked away, shouting orders. Rafi followed.

Kett helped Corin throw the slaver overboard. Alere watched, troubled. Should they be taken ashore and buried with the proper rites? Someone should at least sing the Song of Passing and ring the Kuailong’s watchbell four times. Then again, there was little time for niceties and digging was impossible in the winter-frozen ground, anyway.

Seeing Gavon staring blindly after the first drifting corpse, Alere raised a brow at him. ‘Is Dalor right? Is it unusual for them to come this far?’

He watched another body splash into the Kabir River and spat after it, satisfaction replacing anger in his expression. ‘Aye, boyo. They don’t normally come south of the border between Mamlakah and Melcor.’ He frowned. ‘But I’ve been hearing stories. People being snatched from well inside Mamlakah.’

‘But why?’ Alere said.

‘Melcor’s economy works on the backs of its slaves.’ Gavon’s eyes narrowed. ‘The trade deals Hanna Zah-Hill and her son, Ven, made for Mamlakah were all in Jahil’s favour. So Melcor has grown arrogant. Thinking Mamlakah’s weak.’ He pointed at the corpse in the water. ‘These belonged to Shah Jahil’s kin-brother, Hallon Nasim. The Slavemaster with the most power in the land. But I don’t think even Jahil knows how farspread Hallon and the other three Slavemasters cast their nets now.’

Gavon spat again, his eyes hardening to obsidian. ‘At least we’ve killed enough of the Nasir’s crew that they shouldn’t be able to attack yer sister’s chuan. For just know, boyo, that if the slavers get their claws into ye or yer kin, ye can kiss yer life or theirs goodbye.’ He rotated the leather-and-bronze guards he wore on his forearms and swore.

‘I’m sorry,’ she said, not really knowing what else to say.

‘Ye’ve nothing to be sorry for, boyo. Ye did yer training proud today. When we first met ye were still a loose-haired child.’ He clapped her on the shoulder. ‘Now yer a warrior worthy of that mawei ye tie yer hair in. Especially with those steel blades.’ He pointed at her weapons. ‘Can I see them?’

She drew forth her sword and dagger. The steel appeared undamaged. She caressed the sword’s smooth length before giving both blades to Gavon.

He held them up to the rising sun so the fire-orange light gleamed along their lengths. The matched pair was a gift from Corin and Rafi. Steel, the rarest metal on the planet, set with even rarer yanstones. Exquisite death. She normally kept the pommels covered with thin suede to hide their value and protect the stones.

‘They are beauties.’ Gavon hefted the sword, twirling it with easy expertise. He returned them. ‘A little light and short for me, but perfect for ye.’

‘Yes,’ she said. ‘They’re perfect, but…’ She didn’t know how to voice her unease. Every time she used them, she inflicted death. Messy, complicated death on imperfect people.

‘But the faces don’t trouble yer sleep any more?’ Gavon eyed her shrewdly. ‘And ye think they ought to?’

She nodded. Apart from Ven, whose face haunted her nightmares, each death became easier to forget. Now, she barely noticed the smells and sounds of battle. Before, they’d caused her stomach to roil and mouth to swim.

‘I was raised in Xintou house,’ she said, struggling to put her discomfort into words. ‘The motto of the house is: clarity, stability, responsibility, and compassion. I feel like…’ She looked in the direction the slaver ship had vanished. ‘I didn’t even think about their families. Or whether killing the chuanzhu might have wider repercussions. All I cared about was protecting everyone on this chuan when I shot him. I should care, shouldn’t I?’ Was she becoming as much of a monster as Ven; someone who had little regard for human life?

CHAPTER THREE

ALERE

Gavon snorted a scornful laugh and scratched at his full beard. ‘Do the slavers care? Did the Jun First, Ven Zah-Hill, when he tried to invade Shanzhai and take the iron buried there? Or when he had his hands around yer throat, strangling the life out of ye?’ His mouth twisted, cynicism glinting in his dark eyes. ‘Ye can’t afford to care about yer enemies, boyo, or ye won’t sleep at night.’ Bitterness seeped into his expression. ‘And caring for yer allies makes ye vulnerable.’

‘But—’

‘Ah, ye can’t help caring,’ he said, waving her objection aside, ‘being who ye are and all. But yer enemies’ll use us against ye, if they can.’ His lips pressed thin. ‘And ye’ve got more than most riding on yer decisions.’

Alere eyed him uncertainly. She’d been raised – as both xintou and weishi – to believe protecting others was her most important function. Before she’d done so out of duty. Now she had people she worried about. Was that wrong? Would it make her vulnerable?

‘So why are you here, with me, if you don’t care?’

He cocked his head. ‘The truth, boyo?’

She nodded.

‘Ye remind me of someone. My younger kin-sister.’ He twisted one of the leather wrist guards. ‘We were taken together by slavers as children. She died in Chengdu in the end-of-year Wushi Games. I couldn’t protect her. Ye…’ He laid a heavy hand on her shoulder. ‘Maybe I can. I owe her. And ye.’

‘Gavon, you don’t have to—’

He held up a hand. ‘Nay, boyo. Save it. If ye’d rather something less guilt-making, then take this: ye’ve saved my life twice now. I owe ye.’

‘No.’ She clasped his arm. ‘I’m the one who owes you. Your training has saved both of us.’

He bared his teeth in a fierce grin. His eyes vanished in a mass of creases. ‘Well, I doubt we’re done yet, boyo. We’ll tally it up at the end. For now, don’t lose sleep over the dead. They can’t hurt ye. It’s the living and their secrets ye’ve to watch out for. That’s what’ll kill ye, boyo.’ With that, he marched away and vanished into the cabins beneath the deck.

Alere leaned her elbows on the cool timber rail and followed the swirling green depths of water, willing her mind elsewhere. She ignored the sharp winter wind that curled around from the south and tossed hair into her eyes. A sinuous ribbon of silver-green, longer than the chuan hull, slipped past below. A shaytan-salamander. Dalor had warned they lived in this part of the river. Hiding amongst the rocks, ambushing the unsuspecting.

Like secrets.

Gavon was right. There had to be more to this than she could see and understand. But what? There were too many secrets and pieces missing to the puzzle. Rafi withheld something vital, something even Corin knew, about the state of the Jundom. Mina was tied to it all in some way, too. As Rafi’s Jun-Heir, Alere had a right to know.

It was time to confront her father and ask what was going on.

Alere straightened. The awareness of another presence tingled up her spine. Someone approached from behind, with feet silent on the timber. An enemy boarder, unaccounted for? No.

How did he do that? For someone as tall and broad-shouldered as Kett, he was remarkably light-footed. She’d never been able to match his stealth. She doubted even Corin could. Sneaking up on her was an old training game Kett used on her back in Xintou House.

Glad of the distraction, she spun and drew her sword in one move. Her blade struck up at an angle. The dagger followed, slicing at stomach height.

Steel met steel in a clarion call to battle. Kett stepped easily away from her sword. He allowed it to float past and brushed her dagger aside with the tip of his sword. Alere let her momentum carry her out of his reach and returned to attack again. She grinned fiercely, striking hard. Kett’s grey eyes widened, then narrowed and he blocked. He smiled, wrists twisting and feet shifting as he deflected every blow. He had the advantage of height and reach, and didn’t scruple to use it in holding her at bay.

At last he gave her an opening.

Just a slight shift in his weight and lift of an elbow left his ribs exposed.

A flick deflected his sword. She stepped inside his guard and thrust with her dagger. Iron fingers snapped around her wrist. He straightened her arm across his chest, flexing the elbow almost to breaking. His arm snaked around the front of her neck, controlling her head, tipping it backward. All she could see was the back of his shoulder and the pale-green sky. She had to stand on tiptoes to avoid being choked.

‘Enough!’